Thank God You’re Here is based on a simple premise: get a group of well known performers and make each walk through a door into a scene without any idea of who they are or what they’re walking into. It might be an operating theatre and a simple greeting, “Thank God you’re here, Doctor. The patient’s ready.” It may be a Roman dungeon, a boardroom, a starship or a talk show. The only things they can depend on are their abilities to make everything up for the next five minutes and cover their tracks as they do it.

There's no getting voted out and it showcases a performer’s versatility as well as their abilities to lie, deceive and… well… basically bull@#*!

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Its a simple premise. Challenge someone and they write it from the given time and word limit.

Limits:Ten Minutes150 - 300 words

Twenty Minutes300 - 600 words.

Thirty Minutes600 - 900 words.

One Hour1000 - 1800 words

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A few challenges have been made already, but come on people. Lets get some more. Kick off the Dresden side of this site. GET IT MOVIN AND SHAKIN BITCHES!

And since I cant thnik of anyone at the moment

Water Mage (Or anyone else who wants to do it if he doesnt want to participate) >_>

Dresden has just found out Lash can Surpress the effects of feeding from the White court and young and nubile young Inari is just begging for a good, hard riding. Can his fragile will hold?

By the powers that be I, The Man of many Names invoke Tank Gewd Ewuwar Heir upon whoever dares answer;

Cowl had once proved that Bob couldn't lock away the knowledge he contained forever.

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Because most of you are halfwits with no grounding in dresden here;

"Justin DuMorne was a Warden, Harry, back at Kemmler's last stand. He pulled me out of the smoldering ruins of Kemmler's lab. Sort of like when you pulled me out of the smoldering ruins of Justin's lab when you killed him. Circle of life, like that Elton John song."

I felt more than a little tiny bit cold. I chewed on my lip and laid my pencil down. I had the feeling the rest of this conversation was not going to be something I wanted to create a written record of. "So what is the Word of Kemmler, Bob?"

"Not a clue," Bob said.

I glowered. "What do you mean, not a clue? I thought you were his skull Friday."

I frowned and took a deep breath. "You're saying that you chose to forget things about Kemmler."

"Or was compelled to," Bob said. "Um. Harry, can I come out? Just inside the lab? You know, while we talk."

I blinked a couple of times. Bob was full of mischief on the best of days. I didn't let him out except on specific intelligence-gathering missions anymore. And while he often pestered me to let him out on one of his perverted minirampages, he had never asked permission to leave his skull for the duration of a chat. "Sure," I told him. "Stay inside the lab and be back in the skull at the end of this conversation."

"Right," Bob said. A small cloud of glowing motes of light the size of campfire sparks came sailing out of the skull's eyes and darted to the far corner of the lab. "So anyway, when are we going to work on the new blasting rod?"

"Bob," I said. "We're talking about The Word of Kemmler."

The lights shot restlessly over to the other side of the lab, swirling through the steps on my stair ladder in a glowing helix. "You're talking about The Word of Kemmler," Bob said. The glowing cloud stretched, motes now spiraling up and down the stairs simultaneously. "I'm working on my Vegas act. Lookit, I'm DNA."

"Would you stop goofing around? Can you remember anything at all about Kemmler?"

The cloud of lights drifted in vague loops around the lab. "Because knowledge is what I am. Losing my knowledge of what I knew of Kemmler took away a… a big piece of my existence. Like if someone had cut off your arm. What's left of what I know of Kemmler is close to the missing pieces."

I thought I started to understand him. "It hurts."

The lights swirled uncertainly. "It also hurts. It's more than that."

"If it hurts," I said, "I'll stop, and you can forget it again when we're done talking."

"But—" Bob said.

"It's a command, Bob. Tell me."

Bob shuddered.

It was a bizarre sight. The cloud of lights shivered for a second, as if in a trembling breath of wind, and then abruptly just shifted, flickering to one side as quickly as if I had been looking at it with one eye closed and suddenly switched to the other.

"Kemmler," Bob said. "Right." The lights came to rest on the other end of the table in the shape of a perfect sphere. "What do you want to know, wizard?"

I watched the lights warily, but nothing seemed all that wrong. Other than the fact that Bob was suddenly calm. And geometric. "Tell me what The Word of Kemmler is."

The lights pulsed scarlet. "Knowledge. Truth. Power."

"Uh," I said, "a little more specific?"

"The master wrote down his teachings, wizard, so that those who came after him could learn from him. Could learn about the true power of magic."

"You mean," I said, "so that they could learn about necromancy."

Bob's voice took on the edge of a sneer. "What you call magic is nothing but a mound of parlor tricks, beside the power to master life and death itself."

"That's an opinion, I guess," I said.

"More than that," Bob said. "It is a truth. A truth that reveals itself to those who seek it out."

"What do you mean?" I said slowly.

There was a flash, and a pair of white eyes formed in the glittering cloud of red points of light.

They weren't pleasant. "Shall I show you the start of the path?" Bob's voice said. "Death, Dresden, is a part of you. It is woven into the fabric of your being. You are a collection of pieces, each of them dying and in turn being reborn and remade."

The white lights were cold. Not mountain-spring cold, either. Graveyard-mist cold. But I'd never seen anything quite like them before.

And there was no sense interrupting Bob when he was finally spilling some information.

Besides. Fascinating light.

"Dead flesh adorns you even now. Nails. Hair. You tend them and caress them like any other mortal. Your women decorate them. Entice with them. Death is not a thing to be feared, boy. She is a lover who waits to take you into her arms. You can feel her, if you know what her touch is like. Cold, slow, sweet."

He was right. A cold, tingling nonfeeling was glittering over my fingernails and my scalp. For a second I thought that it hurt, but then I realized that it was only a shivering sensation where that cold energy brushed close to the blood pulsing beneath my skin. It was where they met that it felt uncomfortable. Without the blood, the cold would be a pure, endless sweetness.

"Take a little of death inside, boy. And it will lead you to more. Open your mouth."

I did. I was staring at the light in any case, and it was amazing enough to merit a bit of gaping. I barely noticed a frozen mote of dark blue light, like the corpse of a tiny star, that appeared from one of the spirit's white eyes and began drifting toward my mouth. The cold sensation grew, and it hit my tongue like a thermonuclear peppermint, freezing hot, searingly bitter and sweet and—

—and wrong. I spat it out, recoiling, throwing my arms up in front of my face. I fell to the floor, numbness spreading.

"Too late!" crowed the spirit. It shot into the air, swirling around over me, gloating. "Whatever you have done to my thoughts, the master will not be pleased that you have meddled with his servant."

The cold started spreading, and it wasn't purely physical. There was an empty, heartless void to it, a starless, frozen quality that raked at me— not just my body, but me—with a mindless hunger. And I could feel it sending tendrils out through me, slowing my heartbeat, making it impossible to breathe.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for that?" the spirit purred, drifting back and forth over me. "Sitting there locked behind my own thoughts? Waiting for the chance to fight free? Finally, you thick-witted ogre, I get to leave your stupidity behind."

"Bob," I choked out. "This conversation is over."

The spirit's scarlet lights flared to sudden, incandescent rage and it screamed, a wailing sound that rattled my shelves and felt like it was splitting my head. Then the cloud was ripped backward across the room, sucked into the eyeholes of the skull as though down a hellish drain.

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Cowl's hand dipped into a pouch at his side, and came out holding Bob the skull. The lights in the skull's eye sockets burned a cold shade of blue and violet.

"There, spirit," Cowl said, holding the skull up to see the vortex. "Do you see it?"

"Of course," said the skull, his voice just as cold and empty. "It is precisely as the master described. Proceed." The eye lights swiveled and came to rest on me. "Ah. The White Council's black sheep. I recommend that you kill him immediately."

"No," Kumori said firmly. "His death curse could destroy the working."

"I know that," the skull replied, his voice contemptuous. "But if he lives when Cowl draws down the power he might disrupt it. Kill him now."

"Silence, spirit," Cowl said in a harsh voice. "You are not the master here. Challenge me again at your own peril."

The skull's eye sockets burned colder yet, but he said nothing.

I swallowed. Bob… wasn't Bob anymore. I'd known that he was bound and beholden to whoever possessed the skull he resided within, and that their personality would strongly influence his own—but I'd never really imagined what that might be like. Bob wasn't precisely a friend to me but… I was used to him. In a way he was family, the mouthy, annoying, irritable cousin who was always insulting you but who was definitely at Thanksgiving dinner. I had never considered the possibility that one day he might be something else.

Something murderous.

The worst part was that Bob had given Cowl good advice. My death curse might well mess up this spell, but on the other hand, Cowl did not seem one to be afraid of death curses. If he gave me the chance to wait until he was actually at the delicate moment of drawing down the power, I wouldn't need anything as strong as a death curse to upset his balance.

On a mission to make sure his sister, Inari, falls in love before the demon of the White Court can claim her, Thomas employs Dresden's help to make sure a certain half-wit pornstar falls in love with Inari too.

Will Dresden be swayed to make a love potion? Can he approve of Thomas's choice of boy friend for Inari, and how does Michael Carpenter help Dresden work through the moral choice of bringing a succubus-to-be and a pornstar in holy matrimony.

1800 words
One hour.

I don't give a damn about the time or word limits, just make eet good.

Water Mage (Or anyone else who wants to do it if he doesnt want to participate) >_>

Dresden has just found out Lash can Surpress the effects of feeding from the White court and young and nubile young Inari is just begging for a good, hard riding. Can his fragile will hold?

One Hour - 1000/1800 words.

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I really should be working on school stuff. But how could I pass up the challenge. Forgive me if its not perfectly edited.

Harry Dresden Needs A Hug.​

A noise woke me from my dream like the sound of a blaring alarm. It wasn’t quite so loud. But I had become a light sleeper over the course of the war with the Red Court. When every bat like vampire on Earth wants your head on a stick it makes you a bit twitchy. Darkness greeted me as I looked around the room. The door closed with a soft click and I quickly sat up in bed.

“Who’s there,” I called out, peering into the dark. “Hello!”

I muttered a word under my breath, exerted a bit of will, and the candles in the corners of the room flared to life chasing away the darkness.

“Inari?”

Inari Raith stood dressed in a long coat wrapped tightly around her slender form. She looked up at me through her eyelashes, her dark hair falling across her face. Her cream colored skin was almost luminescent in the candlelight.

I swallowed feeling a familiar sense of déjà vu. I knew that look. “So you drove across Chicago for a quick shot out? Most people just would have called.”

She finally looked at me. Really looked. Her eyes were glassy, clouded with a shiny, unfocused expression of pure adulterated lust. I had a flash of those eyes closed in ecstasy, and I closed my eyes to shove the thought away. Bad Harry. Let’s not give the baby succubus a free meal.

Inari stepped closer to the bed, body swaying with a motion that I would have expected from big sister, Lara. I slowly began to reach for the staff propped up next to the bed. Was I faster than a vampire? I would have to be if I didn’t want to be one dead wizard.

“You fear me,” she whispered, her eyes tracking my movements like a hawk watching a mouse.

I licked my lips, scolding myself when my eyes traced the curves of her neck. “Said the spider to the fly.”

She moved faster than I could blink. Before I could draw another breath she was pressed against me. Her body lay along the length of mine and I couldn’t move. Her hands gripped mine in an unyielding grasp, and her thighs clenched my legs in a hold. It was like being trapped under Wonder Woman. Inari leaned down till her face was but a hairs breath away from mine. I would only have to pucker my lips and we would be kissing. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Losing my life…Okay, definitely bad thing.

“Not precisely, my host,” came Lasciel’s voice.

I started at the sound. Hells Bells. She finally shows herself. I started to look around.

“Do not bother. I am not projecting my image,” said Lasciel. “I do however propose a solution to your predicament.”

Inari seemed almost frozen, her eyelids blinked almost hypnotically slow. What was going on?

“I have temporarily accelerated your thought processes,” Lasciel said, quickly. “I can’t maintain it for long for fear of damaging your mind. My solution is to give the vampire what she wants.”

And do what? Watch her burn to death? I still had Susan’s protection, and even if I didn’t I couldn’t seriously go through with it. She would feed off me and I was no one’s Happy Meal.

“No,” I told her.

Lasciel’s voice came again, this time firm. “I can suppress the creature’s ability to feed and your protection shouldn’t matter once her power is inactive.”

“Uh,” I said dumbly, trying to think of other reasons why it would be wrong. “Isn’t it like borderline incest? Thomas is her brother and my brother. I’m sure this is illegal somewhere—“

The world rushed back into motion with a sudden force that had me gasping. Some unseen energy jumped from my chest and struck Inari a blow that knocked her head back. She let out a sound that was between a gasp and a moan, and damn if it didn’t go straight to my dick. I grabbed her shoulders and flipped us over, so I was on top. She let out a startled yelp that made my lips twitch.

“Let’s play,” I said, reveling in the desire and lust that shined in her eyes.

I stripped off the coat and was momentarily surprised at what lay beneath the garment. Nothing. Before me was pale flesh, curves in all the right places, and nipples that stood hard and ready for sucking. My own lower half matched that salute, hardness for hardness. I shed my boxer shorts and threw our clothes across the room. I smiled slowly at her admiring gaze that wandered down my chest and to my groin. Oh yeah. Long like the rest of me.

She licked her lips and grinned. “Forget playing. Let’s fuck.”

My mouth slammed against hers and her tongue traced mine as we kissed with pure fire. My hand trailed down her body, and automatically my fingers searched out for her pussy’s opening. It was warm and already wet. Damn. She had to be fucking horny. Inari moaned low in her throat as my fingers rubbed her clit over and over. A small hand found my dick and I matched her groan as that hand jacked me from the head to base, in a manner that spoke volumes about this being nowhere near her first time at this. I pumped against the hand and she jacked me faster and harder. She was good at this.

I broke from the kiss and pushed her legs apart. I settled down between her legs and slowly slid my dick into her. Fuck foreplay. Her moan was low and her back arched off the back as I entered. She was tight. Her pussy gripped my dick like a warm glove. It was the best feeling. Near mind-blowing.

I slowly pulled out, and then grabbing her hips I slammed in with a force that sent her head knocking against the headboard. Four years of pent up sexual frustration was unleashed. A growl left my lips as I fucked her with long, fast strokes that had her screaming with pain and pleasure. I worked her breasts and licked her neck, fucking her with a passion that I didn’t know I possessed. Feelings that centered at my dick washed over my body. Everything about her turned me on and spurned me to fuck her faster and harder. She was crying my name, and meeting my every stroke.

She broke skin but I was too far beyond to care. I adjusted my position and her legs wrapped tighter around my waist.

Breathing hard, I stared down at her sweat covered brow. “How hard do you want it?”

“You already know,” she panted, face flushed pink with heat.

That was all the cue that I needed. I raised my hips and came down into her like I was laying pipe. She screamed so hard, and I paused worried that I hurt her. Her legs tightened around my hips and pulled me in deeper. Approval granted. I pounded into her with a fury, going in so deep that my dick bumped repeatedly against her cervix. Susan hadn’t liked when I bumped against it, but Inari loved it and her cries drove me on.

“Don’t stop!” she moaned.

I didn’t plan on it, not when her pussy was clenching around my dick like it was made for it. Suddenly her bucking body went into a spasm and she let out short, gasping cries as her pussy juices flowed out in the wave of powerful orgasm. Her pussy clenching and unclenching around my dick brought my own body to orgasm. I cried out as wave, after wave of pleasure, washed over me in electric cycles.

I collapsed against her, too tired to move more than content to let our sweaty bodies cling to one another. I mustered up some energy and dragged my arm around her waist.

I said in a voice, deep and panting, “Was it worth the trip?”

“Empty night—Was it ever,” Inari said with a tired smile, tinged with satisfaction.

Something jarred against my mind knocking my senses with a jolt. I sat up gasping. I was alone. In my bedroom. Alone. I rubbed at the empty spot next to me, and gave into the groan of disappointment that erupted from my throat. You have got to be kidding me. A dream? I dreamed the whole thing. Was I really that damn horny? Hell yeah I was.

“Hey Lash,” I called out to the empty air.

The Fallen appeared beside the bed in her usual white tunic and shining blonde hair. “Yes, my host?”

“I take it you know what I dreamed?” I asked, quickly getting dressed. “I’m guessing you had a hand in that…”

Lasciel shrugged a shrug that meant yes or no. Her coy smile was answer enough however. “Perhaps. Consider it just one of the things I could offer you.”

“So that whole suppressing the feeding, you can really do that?” I asked, slipping on my shoes.

Lasciel nodded crossing her arms, and watching me with amused eyes. “I would not trick you so, my host.”

I grabbed my staff, feeling a bounce in my step. “Then let’s go.”

“Where, my host?”

I smiled opening the door, looking back at her triumphantly. “To the Raith house.”

There was unfinished business I had to settle there. Inari was in for one hell of a surprise. If Lara was home then it would be even better. The teasing seductress flashed across my thoughts and I adjusted myself. They were going to get quite the shock. This was going to be one hell of a night.

I was so disappointed with your playing of the "And it was all a dream..." card, but the ending was even more winful.

There was unfinished business I had to settle there. Inari was in for one hell of a surprise. If Lara was home then it would be even better. The teasing seductress flashed across my thoughts and I adjusted myself. They were going to get quite the shock. This was going to be one hell of a night.

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This is quite a nice ending, leaves us hanging but with some very happy thoughts.

That was fucking Win. Yeah, not what I had thought of when I issued it and I didn't care for the dream bit either, but in the end, it's actually a hell of a lot more plausible.

Ya know... except for the Sisterscest Inari/Dresden/Lara he is after.

...or maybe, given the Raith's tendencies... Dresden'd be the only one to decline. D8

Feel free to issue one to someone if you like, Water Mage.

And anyone feel free to toss one my way. I've got a one-shot to finish, but I'm up to 10K words, so I can take a break.

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Originally, I wasn't going to go the dream route. I stopped mid way through and I was like, but how did Inari get past his threshold, or his wards. Then there's Mouse, too. I don't see nobody getting past the temple dog. So hence the dream scenerio.

I'll have to think more of the challenge I got building in my head. Right now I'm thinking something with the Summer Lady.

Originally when Dresden questions Aurora, after confronting Maeve, about the missing mantle of the Summer Knight, she distracts him by turning him into an emotional wreck that cries like a baby on her lap.

What if she hadn't played that card. Aurora uses the more common approach of the sidhe, twisting words and sex. Dresden's willpower is already stretched from denying Maeve earlier. But like all dealings with faerie, even when sex is involved, there is a price to be paid.

Originally when Dresden questions Aurora, after confronting Maeve, about the missing mantle of the Summer Knight, she distracts him by turning him into an emotional wreck that cries like a baby on her lap.

What if she hadn't played that card. Aurora uses the more common approach of the sidhe, twisting words and sex. Dresden's willpower is already stretched from denying Maeve earlier. But like all dealings with faerie, even when sex is involved, there is a price to be paid.

One Hour
1000 - 1800 words

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I'll be ganking that challenge.

Vash's new Challenge:

"Georgia was in a rut, literally. With Billy and the rest of the Alpha's out on the hunt, who could she turn to?"

Hey everyone, I just finished the wonderful series! Thank God for people posting the books online for me (though I bought the first three and will eventually buy the rest, to support Butcher in hopes that he'll write more).

Vash, I've got a challenge for you:

One Hour: 1000 - 1800 words.

Molly Carpenter needs to know the recipes to a few potions, and with Harry sleeping upstairs, the only possible source of this knowledge is Bob the Skull. But will romance novels be enough to satisfy to horny spirit of intellect? And what about Harry's ban on sex and 'solo exploration'?

Just a random thought here, but how about some challenges that aren't basically asking for porn scenes with various Dresden characters? Not that there's anything wrong with those kinds of challenges, it's just that a bit more variety and some challenges that give the author a bit more freedom to work with might be good.

Susan Rodriguez, only survivor of a recent Red Court attack on the Fellowship of St. Giles stronghold in Brazil, has pushed herself too hard. The tatoo indicating her control of her curse burns fiery red as she nears the limits of control over her Hunger. And the sound of children playing in the village up ahead is helping her not at all...

One hour, 1000 - 1800 words. Hope someone likes this one well enough to take it.

I was not having a good morning. Kid dropped on my doorstep, and no apprentice to get out of my hair by giving it to her. What was I supposed to do with a 12 year old girl, anyway? Even if she was the repository of the sum of all human knowledge. And where the hell did Kincaid get off to?